Just Another Hunt
by Y3lloFever
Summary: An old friend of the Winchesters finds herself in trouble. How did she get out? Why is she having nightmares? Who is the mysterious hunter that calls himself Jackson Savage?


**Chapter One.**

Mason swallowed hard before taking a ragged breath, feeling her lungs start to burn. She darted in between the trees with expertise like the hunter that she was, giving a silent prayer when she saw her Black Shelby parked just off the clearing where she'd left it. Pulling her keys free from her jeans pocket, she skidded around the side of the car before ripping the door open and sliding in behind the wheel. Led Zepplin's 'Black Dog' blared out of the speakers as the engine roared to life, kicking dust and dirt in its wake as she peeled out of the clearing.

Big, fat, rain drops pelted down covering the windscreen as she looked into the rear-view mirror checking one side of her neck before she moved on to check the other side. Her eyes narrowed seeing the welts and bruises from the bindings that had held her in place for god knows how long while that ugly son of a bitch fed off her. Her face was almost unrecognisable, caked in dried blood and dirt. She gave a low growl before those unusual, eerie, ice blue eyes flicked back to watch the road.

Mason reached over to the glove compartment giving a triumphant little smirk hearing the lock pop when it released. Reaching inside her slender fingers searched for her cell phone before curling around it and pulling it free from its hiding place. Switching it on she sighed with relief as the screen lit up. Her eyes grew wide seeing the date on the front of the screen November 21st – she'd been gone almost 2 weeks! Cursing under her breath she dialled that all too familiar number she'd dialled so many times before.

Locking the door behind her Mason threw her army issued duffle onto the bed, the bed she always chose when she stayed in crappy motel rooms – the one closest to the door. The walls were stained an off-white colour probably due to the years of tobacco abuse. The light brown carpet looked like it had seen better days with patches of darker colours scattered around and the furniture looked cheap and tacky. Those were the joys of being a hunter. You didn't exactly have a place to call home.

Deciding to take a shower she grabbed a clean towel, a black cami and a pair of shorts out of her bag, flicked the TV on and made her way into the bathroom making sure to lock the door behind her. Stripping down she walked over to the mirror that sat on the wall above the small sink area and grimaced seeing the puncture wounds that laced the inside of her arms. Gritting her teeth, she gently fingered the wounds that looked to be almost healed and closed her eyes. How in the fuck had she gotten herself into this mess? That bastard of a hunter, that's how! She should have never have trusted him. He'd befriended her and fed her to the lions when she'd finally agreed to go on a hunt with him. Jackson Savage, would forever be on her shit list. Until she found him and killed him of course.

Mason stepped under the warm spray and gave a contempt little sigh feeling her aching body relax for the first time in what seemed like forever. Reaching for the bottle of vanilla and shea butter shower gel she squirted a good amount into the palm of her hand and started to wash up before making quick work on washing her hair with her apple and cherry blossom shampoo. When the bathroom got a little too steamy from the shower, she decided it was time to get out. God! She'd missed taking showers. She grabbed her dirty clothes and headed back into the main room where she stuffed them into her duffle bag.

A loud knock at the door startled her, reaching for her gun she clicked the safety off and slowly made her way over to the window before peering around to look in between the crack in the curtain. Her heart slowed a little seeing the shadowy figure standing on the other side of the door. Clicking the safety back into place she placed the gun on the small side table just beside the door before unlocking it and pulling it open. His large 6.2" frame loomed over her filling the door frame, those dark brown eyes bore into hers before his face broke out into a beautiful smile as he pushed his way into her room and wrapped his arms around her.

"It's good to see you, kid." Mason closed her eyes as she sank into him. He always gave the best hugs.

"Hi, John."

Her eyes snapped open hearing someone clear their throat making her peer around John's form. Her mouth hung open seeing none other than Dean Winchester, John's oldest son, standing just inside the doorway. She was quick to let go of John and ran over to Dean reaching up on tip toes so that she could wrap her arms around him as he kicked the motel room door shut with his boot.

"Oh my god! It's been too long, Dean."

He gave a deep chuckle right into her ear making her smile as he enveloped her in his arms and whispered quietly, "You smell like pie." Mason laughed at that and it was music to his ears. He'd missed her since she had been gone.

The scent of Leather, motor oil and chocolate filled her senses as she relaxed into him, reminding her of home. The Winchesters had always been a part of her life growing up. Her Uncle Bobby had taken care of the boys when their farther was out on hunting trips on the occasions Bobby hadn't joined him and she'd been quick to learn about monsters and demons. Bobby had never wanted that life for her but it was something that she'd chosen to do and he knew he had to teach her everything she knew. No matter how much he disagreed with it.

Dean peered around the room before pulling back from her tiny frame asking, "You have any beer?"

"Dean!" John scolded making Mason smile as he reached out to wrap his arm around her before pulling her in front of him so he could inspect her.

Those brown eyes searched her face, her neck as he tilted her head first to one side and then the next. He let out a long breath seeing the welts and bruises before his eyes travelled down to her shoulders and lingered on her arms. His calloused fingers wrapped around one of her arms as he snarled.

"What happened?"

Dean was quick to rush around her to see what his father was looking at.

She heard him suck in a quick breath before telling John. "I… I don't exactly know where I was. I remember being in the woods this… this hunter, if you could call him that, had been hounding me for months to work with him," the boys shared a look before she continued, "We were on a case and the next thing I knew, I woke up bound to a bed in this dank house."

John raised his dark brows, "What kinda case was it?"

"Vamps." He nodded his head before letting her go and ran his fingers through his short, black hair.

"There was this one vampire, he fed off me. Kept talking about how he wanted to keep me as his pet before he turned me." Mason closed her eyes, and took a moment, "I think there were others. Others like me." She began to get frustrated not being able to remember for sure. "I heard him say something about wanting to start his own pack."

"Well, that's just friggin' great!" Dean cursed taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

John walked over to the window and peered out taking one last look around outside to make sure the coast was clear. "Alright, I'll go get some food. Call Bobby. We'll head out first thing." He pointed at Dean. "You! Stay and watch her!"

"Yes, Sir."

"Mason! Wake up!" Her eerie, blue eyes fluttered open seeing Dean kneeling on the side of her bed leaning over her, his hands on her shoulders.

"What? What's the matter?" she asked sitting up a little as her eyes darted around the room.

Dean canted his head to one side as he watched her. "You had a bad dream."

"I don't have bad dreams, Dean."

"Could have fooled me. Are you ok? Wanna talk about it?" His large hand came up to rest on her forehead but she was quick to swat it away, shoving the sheets off her.

"I'm fine, Dean."

She headed on over to the bathroom making sure to close and lock the door behind her and headed on over to the sink unit, taking a couple of deep breaths. Dean was right, she had had a bad dream. She dreamt she was back at that god damn house still strapped to that awful bed. But instead of that vampire feeding on her and torturing her, it was Dean. Turning the faucet on she splashed some cold water on to her face to see if it would calm her beating heart. The last thing she need was to worry him. God, he'd already be a pain in the ass just thinking she'd had a bad dream. But that was just Dean, overprotective.

She found him sitting on the edge of the bed next to hers flicking through the TV channels. As soon as he saw her, he dropped the remote and pushed himself up off the bed. "So, you wanna talk about it?"

She rolled her blue eyes, "There's nothing to talk about. I told you, I'm fine."

"Mase, you are not fine." Her heart melted a little at hearing his pet name for her. Something he'd called her when they first met all those years ago.

"Look, I appreciate you being worried. I really do but, there's nothing to worry about." She watched him reach up around the back of his head to scratch his neck, something he always did when he was nervous or unsure.

He still didn't believe her but he would let it drop…for now. Mason padded on back over to her bed and slid under the cool sheets.

"Get some sleep, Dean. It's still early." She heard movement followed by heavy breathing letting her know he was settled back in for the night.

John pulled into the parking lot of the small gas station off the side of the road and pulled the keys free from the ignition of the Impala. He threw the keys to Dean so he could fill the tank while John went inside to pay for the gas, grab a couple of bottles of water and some chips for Dean. Mason pushed her car door open and scoped out the couple of cars that scattered the parking lot as she took in some air.

She was still a little spooked by her dream the night before. She wondered what her Uncle Bobby would say when they arrived in a couple of hours. She knew that he would have worried about her. John had called while he had been out last night and told Bobby that she was safe and they were bringing her home.

"Mason?"

Her head snapped around to see John walking towards her holding a bottle of water. "Here." His brows furrowed. "Are you ok?"

She took the water with a smile and cracked the top off. "Sure, was just thinking about Uncle Bobby."

John nodded and started to make his way over to his car. Dean saw the look on his father's face and opened the car door sliding into the passenger seat. He watched his father slide behind the wheel while staring out of the front windscreen, looking over to where Mason was getting into her car.

"She alright?" John asked, finally looking over at his son.

Dean swallowed hard. "She had a bad dream last night. When I woke her, she said he was fine? That she hadn't." John nodded.

"Just… keep an eye on her. We don't know what they did to her."

"I know." Dean sighed, looking over to where Mason was checking her phone.

"Go with her."

Dean pushed the car door open and headed on over to the sleek, black Shelby where she'd parked. Mason furrowed her brows leaning over to push the passenger door open.

"Everything ok?" He nodded sliding into the seat and reached for his seat belt to buckle up. "Yep. Dad just wanted me to ride with you."

Mason started the engine, of course he did!

"So, are you feeling ok today?" Dean asked, glancing over at her.

"Sure, a little tired. Other than that, I'm ok."

She subconsciously reached up to finger the left side of her neck where the now faint, purple and yellow bruising sat. "So," she asked, pulling out of the parking lot behind John's car she loved so much. "Sam doin' ok?"

Dean grit his teeth, he hated that Sam was still at college, that he wasn't in the life anymore. But deep-down Dean was jealous that Sam had took a shot at a normal life. Not that he'd ever admit it. "Yeah, he's doin' real good."

Tears pricked the back of her eyes. She missed the youngest Winchester. Sure, she loved Dean but with Sam, she knew she could tell him anything. Dean was more like the big brother that kicked ass if anyone messed with you.

"You ok, Dean?" Mason asked glancing over at him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"All good, sweetheart."

Greys and bright oranges lit up the sky as they passed the 'Welcome to Sioux Falls" sign and Mason shivered. She was a little nervous about seeing her Uncle Bobby again. She knew he'd kick her ass for teaming up with another hunter that wasn't the Winchesters or one of her good friends, Abbie Grace. Still, everyone made mistakes. She just wished Bobby would see it that way. It wasn't long before they were pulling into the gravel driveway passing the sign that read, "Singer Auto Self Service Salvage Yard" that sat on the edge of the property.

John parked the Impala and unfolded himself from behind the wheel, smiling when he saw Bobby appear in the doorway. Mason pulled her door open and glanced over at Dean who was already making his way around the front of her car. She let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding and slid from behind the wheel.

"Dean," Bobby greeted walking over to pull him into a hug before he let him go and glanced over at Mason who was shyly walking over to them.

He gave her the once over, she didn't miss the quick intake of breath he gave when he noticed the bruising and welts on her neck. He slowly walked towards her the rest of the way and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. He sighed feeling her wrap her arms around him. "Welcome back, Kid."

He looked up at the sky and grit his teeth as his green eyes closed, giving a silent prayer. Mason slowly pulled away to look up at him and gave a small smile.

"It's good to be back." She admitted. She loved this place; she had many happy memories there.

He leaned down to place a kiss to the top of her head and ushered, "Come on, food will be cold."

Dean's eyes lit up at that. "You cooked for us?" Bobby rolled his big green eyes and started toward the house.

"Bobby, that was great!" Dean gushed leaning back in his seat to pat his now full tummy.

Bobby chuckled raising his half empty beer bottle. John gave a big grin looking over at his eldest and shook his head.

Mason pushed herself up from her seat and headed on over to the sink.

"What d'ya think you're doin'?" Bobby hollered a little more harshly than he meant to, still feeling a little frustrated after their 'talk' when she'd arrived. He couldn't help himself; he'd shot off at her for going it alone and pairing up with a hunter that wasn't well known, that he couldn't find any background on. It wasn't the first time she'd hunted alone but Bobby thought she'd have more sense than that.

"Doing the dishes?" Mason stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Nah, ya ain't." Bobby shot back making his way over to her and pried her plate out of her hands. "Now, get."

He pointed back over to the table before he heard her groan, "But it's only fair, Uncle Bobby. You cooked for us."

John finished his beer and pitched his bottle into the trash. "Dean will do it."

Dean groaned running his hand over his face. "How's that fair?"

John slit his eyes at him. "Because Bobby cooked for us, gave us beer and a place to stay."

Mason's tongue darted out of her mouth seeing Bobby reach for another case of beers. "It's ok, I'll help." She offered seeing Dean making his way over to her where she stood at the sink.

Bobby threw his free hand up in the air. "Alright, John? Ya joinin' me?" He asked pushing the back door open so they could go out on the back porch before they both disappeared.

Dean rolled his green and black flannel shirt sleeves up to his elbows and reached for the faucet, turning it on.

"So, I'll wash… you dry."

She was quick to take her place next to him when he handed her the dish towel.

"So, you wanna talk about what happened out there?" Dean gently pressed.

"I don't remember most of it." His brows raised hearing her finally talk about it.

"It doesn't matter. What do you remember?"

She held her hand out waiting for the first plate he was washing. "Well, I remember being there, strapped to the bed. I remember this guy, but I can't remember his name." She shook her head at herself, "The vamp. The one that cut me… the one that fed on me." She placed the now clean plate down on the side and continued, "He'd feed off me until I thought I'd pass out and then he'd leave me be. I didn't really know how long I'd been there for until I got back to my car."

Dean glanced over at her dunking another plate into the water. "That all he did?"

He saw her close her eyes and take in a deep breath. "He whispered things, things he wanted to do to me. Things he wanted me to do once he'd turned me." She heard a deep snarl rip from his lips as he shoved the plate at her.

"That's never going to happen." He ground out leaning on the counter beside her. "You know that, right?"

Mason looked up into those stunning, green eyes of his that took her breath away. "Dean, what about if there were others?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "What about if there were others?"

"Why can't I remember everything?" He saw tears well up in those pale eyes of hers.

"It's ok, Mase. We'll find out where that son of a bitch is. We'll take him down." He soothed, wrapping her up in his large frame.

He felt her body relax into him and closed his eyes smelling her apple and cherry blossom shampoo that drove him crazy.

"How did you get out of there?" Dean asked passing the last plate across to her.

"If I'm honest, I really don't know." She took the plate and continued, "I just remember running through the trees. Then I remember seeing my car." She reached up to place the plate in the cupboard with the others.

Mason sat bolt upright in bed. Her hair stuck to the side of her face, sweat pooling in the hollow of her throat. Her wild eyes darted around the room as her breath sawed out of her in quick, ragged succession. When her eyes finally focused, they landed on the hope chest that sat at the bottom of her bed, it was then that she realised she was in her room. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as a cold sweat ripped through her. What the hell was wrong with her? Then she remembered, his face hovering above her, those piercing, bright green eyes, almost translucent, glaring into her very soul before he leaned in and purred into her ear in that deep, dark voice of his, "You're all mine. You'll never escape." She lay back down in bed and ran her hand over her face letting the silent tears fall.

It was still dark when Mason stumbled out of the bathroom rubbing her tired eyes. She was up now and she knew there was no going back to sleep. She started to make her way down the hallway and froze hearing the sound of one of the bedroom doors open behind her. She squeezed her eyes shut praying to god that it wasn't John.

Slowly, she turned around just about the same time Dean appeared and quietly closed the bedroom door behind him. He jumped a little when he saw her standing there not expecting anyone else to be up. He sucked in a quick breath seeing that her dark hair had that just fucked look, her white cami clung to her in all the right places and it didn't go unnoticed that she wasn't wearing a bra underneath. Her perky, ample breasts perfectly outlined, her pink nipples standing to attention.

His throat went dry and his chest tightened, seeing that she'd paired it with a simple pair of what looked to be black boy shorts. They hugged her hips making his mouth water.

"Mornin'," She just about managed to croak out, squinting a little as she tried to focus.

Dean shook his head to rid the naughty little thoughts that were now swimming there, "Mornin', you cold?" He asked giving his classic trade mark smirk as his gaze dipped down to her chest, trying to play it cool.

She gasped and was quick to wrap her arms around herself covering the offending area, "You're a dick, you know that?"

He only shrugged at that, purring, "Well, someone's grumpy!"

She gave a huff and turned around giving him a lovely shot of her behind in those black shorts that showed half of her ass cheeks. Dean stifled a low growl by jamming his fist into his mouth. What the hell was wrong with him? It was Mason for god sakes! He watched, following behind as she took the stairs two at a time.

Ice, cold water dripped down Dean's face as he glared at himself in the bathroom mirror. "Pull yourself together, Dean." Reaching out he snagged his black t-shirt from the counter top pulling it over his head.

Foot falls pounded up the stairs and stopped right outside the door. "Dean, you in there?" he heard his fathers, deep voice boom.

"Just about finished." He turned, took one last glance at himself in the mirror and headed on over to the door.

John smiled, reaching out to pat him on the chest. "Bobby wants you, he's in the kitchen."

Dean jogged down the stairs and almost skidded to a stop seeing Mason sitting at the kitchen table hiding behind her surface tablet as Bobby leaned on the table next to her. The breakfast things all cleared away. He heard 'Still of the Night' by Whitesnake blare out and smirked seeing Mason snag her phone.

"Hello?" Both Bobby and Dean raised their brows seeing her shove her chair back as she got up almost making the chair collide with the counter top behind her.

"What? Where are you?" Her eyes flickered to Dean before darting down to the floor.

"Alright, just… ok, yeah. I'll meet you there." She hung up the phone and stuffed her phone in to her jeans pocket.

"That was, Sam… we gotta go."


End file.
